


Black Bird

by ellevetica



Series: Let Go [2]
Category: Hanson (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, Hanson is not Hanson, Isaac and Taylor Are Not Related, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Porn With Plot, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-24 09:08:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21335749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellevetica/pseuds/ellevetica
Summary: The sequel to Let Go
Relationships: Isaac Hanson/Taylor Hanson
Series: Let Go [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1538041
Kudos: 1





	Black Bird

Grey.

The colour of March, Isaac decided bitterly as he stepped out into the frigidly cold morning air, feeling his fingers tremble as he poked through the little pocket inside his leather wallet for a subway token. He didn't have time to call for a cab, not to wait for it to get to him through the congestion of morning traffic. It was one of those mornings that felt long; he felt tired before he'd even been up. His dreams had exhausted him, something he'd never imagined to be possible until it had become a reality. Dreams so vivid that he woke up in cold sweats, terror-like anxiety creeping over him each time he looked around the room, eyes searching for the figure who made himself so prevalent in his dreams. But he was never there.

It was all in his head; scenes and conversations so vivid that they lingered with him for the rest of the days. They always started with the same, haunting scene, Isaac covering Jordan with a blanket as he slept on the couch. When he woke again, Jordan was there. Sometimes in his bed, one time making breakfast, another he found him climbing the shower curtain; not all of the scenes made sense, but in each and every single one of them, he was there. Dreams so vivid that he'd wake and expect to find him, he'd wander to his kitchen to start the coffee and still be half expecting to find Jordan waiting for him there with a mug already full. But it was never that simple; it was always the same. The same empty apartment, hauntingly silent save for the quiet buzz of the radio station that he woke up to. It filled the room, but he rarely processed many of the words. The same big bed with the cool, empty side that Isaac would roll into for a moment, savouring the feeling of the crisp fabric on his warm skin.

He'd slept in again, the second time this week but thankfully, it was Friday. Isaac was relishing the idea of sleeping even twenty minutes longer than the screaming of his morning alarm would allow. But not today. Today he was bound for another long day in the office, though usually he got lucky on a Friday in the sense that he got out closer to five o'clock. Getting out 'on time' was a myth long lost to him, he hadn't seen a day end before five since his first month on the job. Isaac felt his feet splish and splash in the shallow puddles that covered the sidewalk. The thick piles of snow were shrinking more and more in the warming air, leaving the ground a muddy, wet mess. It was too cold for it to melt all together, but Isaac could only hope that it would shrink a little more, day by day, until Spring really did arrive. Today, though, Spring felt far away, as the wind nipped at his cheeks and chilled his throat. He followed a mass of people towards the steps that lead into the subway station beneath the ground.

It was immediately warmer, though also darker, Isaac always felt like he was descending into another world when he took the steps down. Around him, walls built almost a hundred years before stood strong, though pieces of them were cracked and crumbled, showing the years they'd seen pass. Isaac barely noticed the brightly coloured posters that clung to the walls, and the sound of a guitar and an off-key voice all melted together with the sound of dozens of conversations, the whistle and screeching of an arriving train, the bells on the doors… The subway station was a massive, swirling sea of energy and Isaac always felt the slightest tingle of unease settle about him on a chaotic morning like this. Looking through the crowd, almost as if he were holding his breath, he walked confidently towards the turnstile and dropped his token into the slot. He followed the crowd towards the trains moving north and found himself on the busy platform. He weaved his way through the crowd to the other end of the platform where he finally felt himself breathe. His heart was racing a little, not quite tired, just a little overwhelmed by the rush of the effort it had taken to find himself on the platform. Staring down the endless blackness of the tunnel he saw the tiniest beam of white light, the oncoming train.

The crowd inched towards the edge of the platform, readying themselves as they swelled. Isaac felt a tickle of nervousness at the thought of everyone crammed together on the train - so crowded - but inevitable, he realized, as the train screeched to a stop and when he looked inside, it was already nearly full. It was impossible, logistically, for everyone to fit, but that didn't stop the pushing and the shoving that commenced the second the doors swung open. Isaac felt his breath being held as he slipped through the people around him onto the train, feeling thankful as his feet touched the subway floor and he heard the little warning bell chime behind him. Looking around, he was only inches away from dozens of perfect strangers, none of them looking too content to be crammed into the too-warm train. Isaac found a spot near one of the hand rails and closed his eyes for a moment, steadying himself and willing himself to relax a little bit as the train pulled forward.

Isaac rode the five stops north, more than a little bit relieved to dismiss himself from the tightly packed train. Following the mass of commuters towards the stairs, he checked his watch and felt his heart speed up a little bit. He had only five minutes to get to the building that his meeting was being held at. The office was only two blocks further than the bank he worked at himself, but the extra subway stop had cost him a little bit of time that he hadn't been counting on losing. A Quarterly investment review with one of his longest-standing clients, Mr. Johnson. Isaac could still remember how nervous he'd been about his first meeting with the salt and pepper colour haired man who always looked so serious. Today. however, it wasn't the meeting itself he was anxious about. The only thing that was crowding his mind was the pressure to be there on time. Isaac hated being late; he was usually meticulous about his appointments and arrangements, arriving early most days. At street level, the air was still bitterly cold, swirling in gusts beneath an ever grey sky. Isaac took a deep breath as the skyscraper he was seeking came into view - he was going to make it.

It was nearly one o'clock when Isaac got back to the office, a plastic bag from the sandwich shop on the corner was tossed onto a far corner of his desk and forgotten about shortly later when the phone rang. Around three, he got to unwrapping the sandwich, but mid-chew of the second bite, the phone rang yet again; and it was Mr. Johnson. Four o'clock ticked by, and with half the sandwich gone, Isaac could no longer complain about hunger. Reaching up, he rubbed his tired eyes and closed them for a moment before continuing the email to yet another client who needed a review. It had been a busy week; meetings daily and requests for meetings came much more frequently; so frequent that he was running out of space to fit them all in. Isaac sent off the email and opened the next. The number of unread messages in his inbox was overwhelming to say the least. At five, Isaac watched from his office into the hall, as some of the other employees started to file out. The receptionists and assistants, the interns and newer employees. Isaac licked his lips and reached for the coffee cup that Katy - an intern he'd been given from one of the local colleges, had dropped on his desk a few hours before. It hadn't felt like so long ago, Isaac thought as he swished the nearly-icy liquid around his mouth and frowned. The sound of his phone piercing the shuffle of employees, the closing of doors and the scuffle of chairs rolling over the floor. The working day wasn't over for quite everyone just yet, Isaac thought bitterly as he reached for the phone.

At a quarter after six, the sound of heavy wheels against the marble floor in the hallway caused Isaac to look up from his open laptop. The weekend cleaning staff had arrived a little early, the scraping of the heavy cart of cleaning supplies filled the room. Isaac couldn't blame them for wanting to get a head start on the weather beaten floors and the messy bathrooms, but, he knew that it would be hard to get much more work done with the distraction of strangers flitting about. Isaac's eyes moved over the days schedule, every task had been completed and he felt accomplished enough to resign. The emails had all been replied to, the calls had all been returned. Isaac's brown eyes wandered next to the schedule for the following week and his head began to cloud with worry. But, it was Friday night, he thought as his head began to ache; it could wait, at least until… Monday. In the moment, in the fatigue of the day and the week that had had come before, Monday felt far away. The weekend offered a short, but luxurious stretch of time that Isaac felt eager to fill with something, anything, but the monotony of work. Reaching for his leather coat from the rack in the corner, he slid his arms inside and then reached for his bag to pack up. A few minutes later, he pushed the key into the lock of his office door, closing it for the final time.

The early evening air was much more mild than the bite of the morning, and with freedom lying ahead of him, if only for the span of the weekend, he decided to walk. The crowds of the Friday night rush hour was not something Isaac would mourn the loss of, nor did he crave to spend extra time in an over priced cab, sitting in the grid lock that filled the narrow streets. At nearly half an hour, it wasn't the sort of walk that he always had time to savour, nor the ability to bear in the cold, but on a mild, still-grey evening, Isaac found himself enjoying the amble. A few snow flakes drifted lazily around him, dotting the murky, darkening sky and illuminated by the bright lights of the city. His mind raced at first, combing over all of the tasks he'd have to face come Monday morning, but as he walked farther and farther from the office and closer to home, he felt the memories start to fall away, fall behind him. He kept walking until each and every worry had gone and his tall apartment building was in sight.

A few more steps, and Isaac's eyes wandered upwards to a familiar sign. Though there were multiple bars and pubs in the area to choose from, Isaac nearly always ended up at this one. It was conveniently close to his apartment, meaning he could slip in after work to grab a quick drink as a way to greet the weekend, or he could make an effort on a Saturday night to meet someone and perhaps even take them home… However, now, it had been nearly a year since he had gone to the bar. When Isaac had first moved into the neighbourhood, he had made going out a much more regular thing; he had a little more time then, a little more flexibility with his schedule, but also with his emotions. As work days became longer and the patterns of his life began to shift, he grew decreasingly comfortable with meeting men at the bar and taking them home in the same evening. Sometimes they left right away, the ones that were only in it for the same thing as Isaac, a quick release… but others stayed the night, tried to wedge themselves into his life from the get go. Isaac became more withdrawn when it came to meeting guys; gave less about himself away in the hopes that things would… progress a little more quickly, a little more smoothly. Guys staying the night and expecting more became less and less of a problem, until Isaac realized that in wanting to feel less than those desperate boys, he became something worse. He became someone who felt nothing at all.

Isaac adjusted to the loneliness, filling the time with later hours at the office, and when he wasn't working, he found things to do. He started reading again; non-fiction at first, but then fiction, sci-fi became his favourite, just like when he was on the borderline of teenage years when reading was still acceptable and not just for nerds. When he was too tired to read, he watched tv. It wasn't so much that he was satisfied with his loneliness and his empty hobbies, it was that it became comfortable enough to accept. He had the money to go out with friends, but he saved it instead, and besides, most of his friends had given up on asking him out. He'd said no so many times that eventually, they just stopped asking. It wasn't that they didn't talk, but it never seemed to be more than text messages and on social media. Some days, he was too tired to be bothered to want more. Other days, it wasn't so easy, but it wasn't until Jordan, that he really noticed how alone he felt.

Alone, more than just lonely, Isaac felt a little isolated. His bed felt too big, too empty, and at night he laid awake and wondered if there was anyone else that felt as hopeless as he did about finding someone to fill the space. He'd left his family behind when he moved to the city for his job; he spoke to them every couple of months, the calls seeming shorter every time, more of an obligation than a pleasure. His mother would ask him if he'd found anyone yet; she refrained from using the word boyfriend, in the false hopes that it might end up being a girlfriend. All his mother wanted was grandchildren, but there was little hope of that. His younger brother, his parents only other son, was probably the only chance, but Isaac wondered how likely that was with dim hope.

His brother wasn't much into the romantic scene; in fact, his brother wasn't much into anything that involved leaving his room. Zac was different. They'd never been incredibly close; but they'd grown further and further apart over the years until it was at the point now that Isaac couldn't even gather the courage to ask to speak to him when he called home, it had been too long, there had been too much silence to try now. Growing up, they had sometimes bonded by playing a card game - Magic - in the treehouse. There was a time period where Isaac felt as though he could 'get away with' hanging out with his younger brother, doing things that he would never tell his friends about, Magic cards and dorky video games. It was at the great urging of his mother that Isaac tried to help Zac fit in, he showed him the best clubs at school to join, tried to find ways for him to meet other kids his age, but Zac wasn't interested in sports, not soccer nor baseball. The other kids didn't 'understand' his sense of humour, and he never seemed to have anything to talk about with them. Zac wasn't much interested in collecting trading cards or going to the mall or the movie theatre with kids his age, he chose to be chronically alone. The things Zac was interested in - the collection of insects in cases at the Museum of Nature and Botanicals, the new exhibits at the art gallery… documentaries, that neither Zac's classmates, or Isaac was interested in. As Isaac grew older and more independent, he found himself feeling less and less guilty every time he left Zac behind to go to band practice in a friends garage. He felt less mean when his friends asked about his 'special' brother and he even started to laugh with them when they asked about one of his geeky passions.

Even more alone, Zac seemed to retreat further and further into his own little world. When he started refusing to even go to school, throwing things at his door and screaming obscenities at the parents that had only shown him kindness, Isaac turned his speakers up and tried to pretend it wasn't happening. He wanted nothing more to ignore the fact that his brother was slipping further and further away. Zac had always been… Zac. The social awkwardness, his blunt honesty, his unyielding passion for the strangest things and staunch disinterest in most things boys his age found appealing. He'd never been 'slow', in fact, his grades were always above average, especially in math, but even the teachers at school started to treat him differently and maybe that was when Zac really began to see himself for what he was; and what he wasn't, and he did the only thing he knew how. He hid further within himself. Desperate, his parents sent him to a therapist and then a psychologist, where he received a diagnosis; a description, a summary of all the events that had unfolded up until then. It was the first real answer to the questions that surrounded the child that had always been a little different…

Zac had Aspergers syndrome.

And Isaac ran away. It seemed too much; all of the appointments and the awkward car rides that lead to them, Isaac was sick of being the chauffeur and the caretaker to someone who wanted nothing to do with him. And it wasn't as though he could blame him, himself, he didn't want much to do with Zac, and it had been that way for awhile. Zac wasn't completely oblivious. Isaac felt desperate for something new; A job ad had been what caught his eye, a promise of a fresh start had been the fuel that purchased the plane ticket for the interview. There was little to no hesitation, no tremble of his fingers as he signed the contract on the same day. He'd done it, he'd escaped.

Isaac wasn't sure what spurred him into reaching for the handle on the door to the pub, but before he knew it, he was stumbling inside, surrounded by loud music from a live band on stage. The sound of a guitar being strummed slightly off tune to one of the top 40 songs he couldn't quite put a name to, despite the singers notable attempt to sing what were probably catchy lyrics. Isaac glanced around until he found the bar at the back, a few empty stools dotting a line of men about his age. In his suit jacket and dress shoes, he felt a little out of place, and it wasn't only himself that noticed; he felt a pair of eyes on his form as he made his way across the floor and sat down. Isaac refused to acknowledge the eyes that were following him; he wasn't really looking to meet anyone as much as he was just trying to unwind a little bit; a drink here instead of at home, what was the harm, he wondered?

Or, that's what he told himself quickly before the bartender wandered over to him and asked for his order. A few minutes later, a Rum and Coke was placed down in front of him and Isaac slipped a few bills across the counter to cover the cost; he wasn't planning on having more than one. Isaac could feel his mind spinning from the hectic day and he brought the chilly glass quickly to his lips. The concoction was syrupy sweet but felt a little harder going down as Isaac swallowed a large gulp.

"Hello"

A masculine voice caught him off guard and feeling his body bristle a little bit, he turned in the direction of the voice and found a tall, slender guy sitting down, unabashed on the stool next to him.

"This seat taken?" He confirmed, blue eyes sparkling as he stared at Isaac with an impish smile.

Isaac returned the smile; a little more hesitantly and with the colour of red painted across his cheeks. He searched the face for a moment; there was nothing familiar and he realized at once that it was probably the man that had been following him with his eyes. Isaac swallowed, feeling a knot form in his stomach, since when did he feel so shy? The colour of the strangers eyes were what caught his attention; blue, ice blue, but the rest of him was just average if he had to be honest. Shortish blonde hair that was fixed up in spikes in mismatching directions, a strong jaw with strong shoulders; he was pretty without being too feminine, but there was still something that just seemed to be…missing. Isaac decided, however, that he was really in no position to be so fussy.

"I'm Isaac. Can I buy you a drink?"

"Mitch." The blonde smiled, flashing a mouthful of orthodontically perfect teeth. "And yes, please. That would be wonderful." His eyes sparkled as he leaned just a little closer to Isaac.

Isaac waved down the bartender and glanced towards Mitch. "Anything you want."

"I'll have a Mojito, please!"

Isaac felt himself bristle; it was as if he was sitting with a girl. He liked his boys pretty, but… Reaching for his glass, he took another greedy swallow as Mitch began to ramble. Isaac listened first, with the offering of a minimal number of questions; to Mitch tell him practically his entire life story. He felt his attention waiver, sometime between the traumatic T-ball stories and his high school musical career. When Isaac's glass was empty, he was a little disappointed to see that Mitch had barely touched his. He made quick order of a second drink, another Rum and Coke, but the second was a double.

"So, Ivan-"

"Isaac." Isaac corrected him quickly.

Mitch blushed, a tiny smile at the corner of his mouth. "Isaac." He said slowly. "What was it you said that you did?"

"I work at an investment firm." Isaac said, thankful to see a glass being slid towards him.

Mitch stared blankly.

"I help rich guys make more money." Isaac smiled and then took a long drink. Mitch obviously majored in different subjects in college… had he mentioned college? Isaac realized then, just how much of the conversation had already melted away from his memory.

"Oh." Mitch smiled. "Are you like, one of those workaholic business men?" He giggled, taking a big swallow of icy green Mojito.

Isaac gave him a tight smile; he felt himself hesitate at revealing that he was correct. Despite the fact that he filled every trait of a 'workaholic business man'… Isaac still had a hard time branding himself with it. No matter how many hours he spent in the office, or how many fancy, tailored suits that he owned, he still saw himself as something else. His former self identity had been surrounded by his passions; music, the job that he loved, spending time with his friends and going to shows. He wore concert t shirts and ripped jeans, a pair of black Converse sneakers that never seemed to wear out. But he left the shoes and everything else behind at home, he'd traded it in so quickly… for…

Isaac's smile faded into a frown and he sighed.

"What's the matter?" Mitch asked, blue eyes wide with worry.

"Nothing." Isaac recovered quickly. "I was just thinking… that I guess you're right. I am one of those work-a-holic businessmen."

Mitch stared at him for a moment, obviously at a loss for words. He finally offered an awkward smile. "You probably get paid well?"

Isaac's laugh was soft and dry. He paused. "Yeah. But money only goes so far."

Again, Mitch's blue eyes lingered on him. The way he made constant eye contact was… somewhat unsettling, Isaac realized, though he couldn't put a finger on why. It would have been different, Isaac supposed, if he was more interested in Mitch, but, it was becoming quickly evident that the two had very little in common. Isaac wasn't sure if Mitch was as bored as he felt - probably not, but he was suspect that that had something to do with the number of Mojito's that had been bought for him prior to the current.

"It can do pretty fun things…" Mitch said. "I wish I made more."

"It can only be fun if you have time to spend it, I guess." Isaac countered next.

Mitch was quiet and then nodded, lifting his drink to his lips and swallowing the last of what was in the glass. Isaac picked his up and took a long drink, and then another, his glass was empty as well and he couldn't deny the relief that he felt.

"Mitch…" He began, setting down his glass as he waved to the bartender, allowing his eyes to wander from the hopeful looking blond that sat so close to him. "I hate to be a buzz-kill, but, I think I'm going to get going… I'm pretty tired from…work." Isaac swallowed around the lump that was rising in his throat.

Truth be told, he wasn't tired as much as he was tired of the conversation and of Mitch. He remembered why he had stopped coming to the bars; the boys were all the same. He never met anyone that had an ounce of passion that he could relate to, he never met anyone that seemed genuine. If he were looking for a quick lay, Mitch would have been an easy take-home, and in the past, he might have appreciated it. But, that wasn't what he wanted now. He wasn't absolutely sure what he was missing, but he knew that it wasn't Mitch.

"Oh." Mitch pouted, his lower lip thrust out. "So… does that mean…" He began to lean closer and Isaac nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt the warmth of fingers against his knee. "That you're too tired for a little…company?"

Isaac stood up quickly, cheeks blushing red. "I'm sorry." He shook his head. "Not tonight."

Mitch frowned, pouting for another moment and then letting out an exasperated sigh. "Fine." He mumbled. "I guess I'm just not good enough for your tastes, rich boy."

Isaac stared, a little caught off guard, as the blond turned and walked away without another word. The bartender had slid the bill forward on the counter and Isaac sighed as he turned to pay him.

"Drama queen?" He asked quietly as Isaac passed him the bills.

Isaac chuckled, feeling a little better about the fact that someone - albeit a perfect stranger, was seemingly understanding of the situation.

"You made the right choice." The bartender said, slipping the bills into the apron he was wearing, brown eyes moving towards Isaac as he tucked a piece of loose brown hair behind his ear. "He's here all the time."

"Good to know." Isaac smiled. "Keep the change."

The brunette smiled a little wider. "Have a good night."

"You too." Isaac nodded.

Isaac shivered, adjusting his scarf as he stepped out into the dark grey night between falling flakes of snow. Dotted on the sidewalk, Isaac noticed hands being held, a quick kiss being shared. Isaac sighed and stared straight ahead; home was in sight and though it was lonely, he was looking forward to the warmth of his fireplace and another drink - or two. Minutes later, he was pulling open the heavy front door and slipping his card-key into the lock. He stepped into the elevator alone and pressed the button for the top floor. A little bell chimed and the doors closed, leaving him in solitude as he turned towards the huge window that faced the city. Quickly, the buildings became smaller and smaller as he rose higher and higher above them. Looking down in the blackness of the night, his eyes wandered over the bright lights at street level, over the various apartments and condo buildings that dotted up between offices and towers. Thousands of tiny squares of light, various yellows and whites, filled with warmth and life… some pitch black, lonely. The elevator chimed as it stopped and Isaac let out a soft sigh, suddenly feeling a little less relieved to be home and a little more aware of his loneliness. He glanced towards the window one last time, eyes moving over each and every light that he could see for just a moment. The lights stretched far and wide; some of them just tiny specks in a murky-black horizon. Isaac could see most of the city and he knew that somewhere, in the sea of lights - maybe in one of those warm rooms or maybe on the snowy street below… there was Jordan.


End file.
